


Swipe Right

by pipermca



Series: Sparkr Stories [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Awkward Romance, Bad Decisions, Drunk Sex, Hook-Up, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Premature Ejaculation, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, dating app
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:32:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipermca/pseuds/pipermca
Summary: Blaster is just about ready to give up on online dating when he finds a mech who seems different from the rest. But maybe he was right after all... Maybe the mechs on that stupid app are all the same.





	1. Errors in Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> Makes references to things that happened in [Frag the Police](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955531/chapters/27032316) and [Swipe Left](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029052), but also works as a stand-alone story.

Blaster levered himself onto the stool next to Jazz at the bar. The white and black racer looked up at him as he sat down. “Hey Jazz,” Blaster said in greeting, accepting the drink that the bartender slid towards him. “Are you meeting your new cop friend tonight?”

Jazz smiled. “Yeah, he just got off shift, so he’s meeting me here.”

Blaster shook his helm. “I cannot believe that you’ve got a cop for a frag buddy,” he said. Blaster had nearly crashed when Jazz introduced him to Prowl. And Prowl wasn’t just a cop – he was a real looker too: all polished metal and door wings to die for. 

Frowning slightly into his drink, Jazz said, “He’s more than just a frag buddy.”

“Really? Are you guys serious?” Blaster asked. He’d known Jazz for a long time, and he’d never seemed to be the ‘genuine relationship’ type.

Jazz shrugged. “I think so?” He thought for a moment. “We haven’t really talked about it, but I think we’d both like it to be.”

“You’ve got the luck of Primus himself,” Blaster said, taking a drink. “I can’t believe you found him on Sparkr.”

“Didn’t you say you have a date with someone off of there?” Jazz asked.

“Yeah. Tomorrow night. We’ll see how it goes, I guess.” Blaster frowned. “I haven’t had a lot of luck with mechs I’ve met on there. Just about everyone I’ve met is just looking for a quick frag.”

“And you’re not?” Jazz laughed at the look that Blaster gave him. “All right, fine. So you’re lookin’ for somethin’ more. D’ya have that in your profile?”

“Yup. Doesn’t seem to matter at all,” Blaster said. “I’ve even chatted with mechs for a while before we met, made it clear that I don’t just want to swap fluids, and then when we finally meet the first thing they want to do is climb my frame.” Blaster exvented. “Of course, it’s getting to the point where I’m about to take one of them up on that anyway.”

Jazz spun on the stool to face his friend. “Hang on, mech. Just how long has it been for you?” He watched as Blaster buried his face in his hands. “An orbital cycle?” He paused. “A vorn?” When there was no response, Jazz said, “Surely not longer than a vorn.”

Not raising his helm from his hands, Blaster muttered, “Three and a half vorn.” 

“Blaster! Mech, if you were so hard up… Why didn’t you tell me? There’s a bunch of mechs I coulda introduced ya to.”

“Because I’m not looking a frag buddy, Jazz,” Blaster said sharply. He took another sip from his drink and resettled his plating. “Sorry. I’m just... not. I can’t just frag ‘em and leave ‘em. I get… I get attached.” He glanced at his friend again. “I’ve been through that too many times. It’s just… It’s getting hard.” Blaster swirled the remaining liquid in his glass and then slugged it back. “After a while, you just start thinking that maybe you should take what you can get.”

Jazz gripped Blaster’s shoulder. “Don’t settle, Blaster. You know what you want. Wait until you find it.” Spinning around again, Jazz looked behind him. A striking black and white Enforcer mech had just entered the bar and was scanning the crowd. “Trust me. If I can find that… “ He pointed at the Enforcer striding towards them. “…then you can find what you’re lookin’ for, too.”

“Sure, Jazz,” Blaster muttered. He watched the racer slide off the bar stool and greet the Enforcer. 

Prowl tipped his helm towards Blaster. “Good evening, Blaster. It’s good to see you again.”

“Same here, Prowl.” Blaster smiled at Jazz. “You two have fun tonight. And stay out of trouble.”

“I can’t get into any trouble with Prowl keeping an optic on me,” Jazz said, smiling at the Praxian. Blaster could not remember seeing Jazz look at any mech like that, let alone a cop. Jazz looked back at Blaster as they turned to leave. “Have fun on your date tomorrow!” he called.

Blaster nodded. He glanced down at the comm pad in his hand and flipped to the screen with the messages he’d been trading with his date tomorrow. He seemed like a nice mech, but so had lots of the other mechs he’d gone out with. They sounded great over messaging, but they showed their true faces when they’d met. 

On the other hand, Blaster was really tired of self-servicing. 

Remembering Jazz’s advice, Blaster thought, _It’s not really settling if it’s something you want. Right?_

***

The sports bar was crowded with mechs watching the championship qualifiers. Blaster weaved his way through the crowd, looking for the mech that he’d been trading messages with for the past deca-cycle.

He spotted him sitting at the bar, directly under one of the screens. Blaster took a deep vent and walked as confidently as he could up to the red mech. “Are you Sideswipe?” he asked, modulating his voice to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Yeah! Blaster, right?” Sideswipe gestured at the stool next to him that he’d been saving, and Blaster took a seat. “We probably could have picked a quieter place to meet!” he shouted.

“I forgot the qualifiers were on tonight or I would have mentioned it,” Blaster said over the din. He signaled the bartender to bring him a drink, and another one for Sideswipe. 

Sideswipe chugged his drink back and took the one that Blaster had bought for him. He held it up and clinked it against Blaster’s. “I don’t mind, actually, even though it’s a little loud,” Sideswipe said. “I can hear **you** just fine over this noise,” he said, grinning and nudging Blaster with an elbow, indicating Blaster’s frame type with a flourish of his other hand. “Besides, if I wasn’t coming out with you tonight, I would have been watching this at home anyway.”

Blaster’s optics brightened a bit. “You follow the fighting leagues?” he asked.

“Sure do! I’d like to get into it myself. I think I could probably hold my own against a lot of the mechs. It’s just hard to make any money unless you get into the higher ranks,” Sideswipe said.

Blaster looked at the other mech appraisingly. He was solidly build, with broad shoulders and chest, and strong-looking arms and legs. “I think you’d probably do well. You’re sure built for it.”

“You think so?” Sideswipe asked, grinning. He struck a pose, flexing his arms to show off the bulky cords under his plating.

Laughing, Blaster slid a hand along Sideswipe’s upper arm, pretending to test the tension in his struts. “Sure I do! I mean, your frame looks just as sturdy as Warpath’s, and he won last season’s middleweight title.”

“He only won that on a technicality!” Sideswipe exclaimed. He took a swig from his drink. “Brawl had him on points; Warpath just got a lucky hit in.”

“It wasn’t a lucky hit!” Blaster retorted. He tried not to glance down as Sideswipe's hand brushed his thigh. “Warpath whittled him down all fight until that last punch knocked Brawl out.” 

“Whatever you say. I still say it was just a lucky hit.” Sideswipe glanced up at the vid screen above him. “So what do you think about tonight’s fights? This one’s Scrapper versus Breakdown.”

“Breakdown in three,” Blaster said immediately.

Sideswipe raised his glass with a grin. “You’re on.”

***

Blaster had no idea how many drinks he’d had. He lost track around six or so, but he knew he’d consumed more than that. At some point, he and Sideswipe had switched to shots, firing them back whenever one of the fighters landed a five-point hit. 

He did remember that there had been a lot of five-point hits.

He also remembered that Sideswipe had started to get fairly handsy after a groon or so of drinking and watching the fights. It had started off casually: a hand on the thigh, a brush of a digit against his cheek, a rub on his back after he’d tossed back another shot. As the night wore on, Sideswipe’s hands wandered even more, touching and rubbing against his lower back, the back of his neck, the sensitive edge of his cassette deck.

To be fair, Blaster’s hands were doing pretty much the same on Sideswipe’s frame.

The touches graduated to kissing, joking and tentative at first, then more and more fervent. By the time Sideswipe had climbed into Blaster’s lap, straddling his thighs and pressing his chest against Blaster’s, the bartender had seen enough.

“Come on, you two. It’s time for you to leave.” Blaster separated his mouth from Sideswipe’s – slag, the mech was a good kisser – and blearily looked up at the large bouncer who had just grabbed his upper arm. 

“Aww, c’mon, we’re just havin’ ourselves a good time watchin’ the fights,” Sideswipe slurred, sliding off of Blaster’s lap as he stood up. He caught himself on the edge of the bar and grunted as the bouncer grabbed his arm too.

The bouncer stared straight ahead as he dragged the two mechs to the door. “The fights ended a groon ago, and the other patrons were tired of watching you two trade oral lubricants.” He kicked the door open and walked them both outside. Not unkindly, he added, “Go find someplace nicer than here to have your frag.” The door of the bar slammed shut behind him.

“Nicer than here?” Sideswipe said, grinning at Blaster. “But this is the best sports bar I can afford.”

Blaster laughed, leaning his arm across Sideswipe’s shoulders. “Me too.” He hummed as Sideswipe pressed his lips to his again. In the cool, quiet air outside the bar, he could hear the little pleased noises Sideswipe was making as they kissed. 

When they finally parted again, their ventilations billowing steam into the air around them, Sideswipe leaned his helm on Blaster’s and nuzzled his optical shield. “So about that frag… My place is just a few blocks away.”

The part of Blaster’s processor that wasn’t intoxicated with engex and the scent of Sideswipe’s neck cables screamed that this was a bad idea. The worst idea. Following this mech back to his place for the night would end up in nothing but regret.

Then Sideswipe’s hand drifted down the middle of Blaster’s cassette deck to rest on his heated interface panel, and Blaster said, “Yeah. Sure. Let’s go.”

By the time they reached Sideswipe’s building and he was fumbling with the door to his apartment, Blaster’s interface panel had involuntarily snapped open twice, and Sideswipe had moaned loudly enough when Blaster tweaked one of his sensor horns that a passer-by told them to stop fragging in the middle of the street and get a room. 

That nagging voice in the back of Blaster’s helm telling him this was a bad idea was still nattering at him when the door swung open and Sideswipe dragged him inside.

“Err, hi Sunny. I didn’t think you’d still be up,” Sideswipe said.

Blaster cycled his optics in an attempt to focus them – why was the room swaying? – and looked at the yellow mech sitting on the couch in the living area. He gave them both a singularly unimpressed look.

Sideswipe tried to stand up straight (but ended up leaning heavily on Blaster, who leaned on the wall next to himself), and said, “Um, hey, so this is my brother Sunstreaker. Sunny, this is...” Sideswipe looked at Blaster at narrowed his optics. “...um... Blaster. This is Blaster.”

The voice in Blaster’s helm reiterated its warning message. _Really, really bad idea._

The yellow mech rolled his optics. “Yeah. Blaster. Right.” He turned his attention back to the novel in his hands, and Sideswipe dragged Blaster out of the room and down a hallway. “Try to keep it down,” Sunstreaker called after them.

A small room. Door kicked shut. A berth strewn with plates and data pads. Blaster landed on his back with a grunt. Sideswipe overbalancing and falling on top of him.

Hands and lips and touching and kisses everywhere and _frag_ this felt good. 

Blaster let his interface panel open again and didn’t bother closing it this time. He raked his hand down Sideswipe’s side, sliding between the Kaonite’s legs and finding his panel open as well, his spike already pressurized. Blaster wrapped his hand around it and Sideswipe gasped. 

“Fraggit Blast aww guuuh,” Sideswipe groaned, his hands tightening on the edges of Blaster’s chest. He arched his back, pressing his helm against the top of Blaster’s deck as he slid his own hand down to grip Blaster’s spike.

“Primus!” Blaster hissed. So much better than self-servicing. He pressed upwards into Sideswipe’s hand, tilting his helm trying to catch the other mech’s lips with his and – 

Sideswipe shuddered. Blaster felt the sticky heat of the other mech’s transfluid spill onto his hand. Muttering, Sideswipe rolled off Blaster’s frame and curled up on his side. “S’good, Blas...” he slurred.

“Um.” Blaster let go of Sideswipe’s rapidly depressurizing spike. “Sideswipe?”

“Wuz amazin’,” the other mech muttered into the berth covering. “Yer so good.”

His optics offlined as he dropped into recharge.

Blaster stared at Sideswipe for a full klik before whispering, “You are slagging kidding me.” He exvented and lay back on the berth. 

Yup. This had been a really bad idea.

What had he been thinking?

 _You weren’t thinking, that’s the problem. You let the engex do the thinking for you_ , said the nagging voice in his helm.

"Shut it,” Blaster muttered. 

He felt a questioning pulse along his cassette bond. Blaster offlined his optics for a moment, and sent a reassuring pulse back across the bond. 

The bond went quiet again. Steeljaw must have been almost asleep.

He pulled himself upright again and frowned at the sticky fluid drying on his hands and abdomen. He found a cloth on the floor, wiped himself off, and looked at the other mech again.

Sideswipe was curled on his side, deep in recharge. With another exvent, Blaster made sure that Sideswipe wasn’t in danger of rolling off the edge of the berth, then opened the door and let himself out.

The yellow mech was still sitting in the living area. He looked up when Blaster came in and quirked an eye ridge at him. “Well, that was fast,” he said.

“Yeah. Um, he passed out. I’m just gonna go.” Blaster turned to look back down the hallway, then added, “He’s ok. He just – we both just had too much to drink. You might want to check on him in a little while, though.”

The yellow mech – Sunstreaker, Blaster suddenly remembered – looked at him for a moment before nodding. “Thanks for letting me know,” he said. “I appreciate it. I’ll check on him in a bit.”

Blaster gave a curt nod, then let himself out.

On the transport back home, Blaster looked at his comm pad to see a message from Jazz. _Hey hot stuff, how’d your date go? If you’re seeing this tomorrow morning, congrats! I’ll be up for a while if not. Let me know, I want deets!_

Blaster tapped out a reply. _I’m heading home. I was right. He was just like all the others. Just wanted a frag._

His comm pad chirped. _Are you ok?_

Blaster typed out a one-glyph response. _No._

A moment later, Blaster received a ping on his comms from Jazz. He answered it. ::Hey, Jazz.::

::Where are you?:: Jazz asked.

::I’m on the transport. I drank too much and so did he and... Slag, I just want to forget this night ever happened.:: Blaster rested his helm on the window of the transport and watched the city slide by. ::It started off so well and... Primus, I’m such an idiot.::

::You can come over to my place if you want someone to hang out with. Or I can come to yours. Whatever would help you, mech.:: 

Blaster smiled at Jazz’s offer. ::I’ll be ok, Jazz. I really just need to recharge and get this engex out of my system. And then I need to delete that dating app off my comm pad. But... Thanks. You’re a good friend.::

::I demand that you call me if you need anything.::

::Thanks, Jazz. I will, promise. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.::


	2. Trying Again

Three cycles after his disastrous date, Blaster was helping Jazz push the stage speakers back into position when he heard his comm pad chirp. He glanced at it and saw a message from an unfamiliar tag. _This is Sunstreaker. I’m Sideswipe’s brother. I got your tag from his phone. Can I talk to you?_

Blaster frowned and considered deleting the message unanswered. What could he possibly want? Irritation warred with curiosity for a full klik before he tapped a response. _I’m at work if you want to meet me here, but I can’t talk after the evening show starts in three groons._ He gave him the name of the club.

_I’ll be there in fifteen kliks._

“Hey Jazz,” Blaster said. He waited for the racer to look up before continuing. “That date from the other night... His brother just messaged me. He’s coming over to talk.” 

“About what?” Jazz asked.

“I have no idea. Something about his brother, I’m guessing?” Blaster shrugged. “I just want to hear him out. Can you keep an eye on us? He seemed ok when I met him, but...”

Jazz nodded solemnly. “I’ve got your back, mech. Let me know if he gives you any problems at all.”

When the yellow mech arrived, Blaster pointed him to a booth near the back. As a peace offering, Blaster grabbed two glasses of mid-grade from the bar and brought them to the table. “Thanks for seeing me,” Sunstreaker said, accepting the glass with a nod.

Blaster settled into the booth. “How’s Sideswipe?” he asked, genuinely curious. “He had a lot to drink.” After a moment he added, “Well, we both did.”

“He didn’t tell me what you two were drinking, but he had an epic hangover the next morning,” Sunstreaker said, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. 

“That makes two of us,” Blaster said.

Sunstreaker put his glass down on the table after taking a sip. “Look. I’ll be blunt. Sideswipe is an idiot.”

Blaster blinked at the straightforwardness of the statement, and how it mirrored his own words about himself from that night. He waved a hand. “Hey, it’s ok. Nothing happened. We can both just forget the whole thing and –“

“Let me finish,” Sunstreaker interrupted. “Sideswipe’s an idiot, but he’s also my brother. And I want to thank you for not taking advantage of him after he passed out.” Sunstreaker’s half-smile appeared on his lips again. “You couldn’t have. There’s no way you had time to before you left.” 

“He... he did pass out pretty quickly,” Blaster said. He flared his plating slightly and added, “And I’m not gonna frag someone who’s unconscious.” 

“Not everyone thinks that way.” The expression on Sunstreaker’s face grew dark. “Sideswipe... He doesn’t always think ahead or think things through, and that’s gotten him hurt before. Bad.” The yellow mech glanced down at his hands, which he’d balled into fists. “After that, he started fragging anything that moved, which just ended up getting him into more trouble, until he finally swore that all off.” He looked back up at Blaster. “You’re the first mech he’d gone out with since deciding he wasn’t going to do that anymore.”

Taken aback, Blaster sipped at his drink to cover his reaction. “So... He wasn’t just looking for someone to warm his berth?”

“No, he wasn’t. Look, I got sick of hearing about you. How he’d finally met a mech on that stupid app who wasn’t just out for a frag, and was totally up front about that. How different you were from everyone else he’d matched with. How much the two you seemed to have in common. Everything you messaged him, just assume that I know it because Sides couldn’t keep it to himself. He was so excited to finally be meeting you.” Sunstreaker paused, looking at Blaster. “I think he thought you were his chance to remake himself, somehow.” 

“No pressure,” Blaster muttered, glancing away. He noticed Jazz watching them closely from the stage area, and gave him a little nod to say that everything seemed to be ok.

Sunstreaker waved his hand. “My intention isn’t to push you into anything. I don’t know you. I don’t know what happened between you two – Sides won’t tell me. But what I do know is that ever since your date, he’s done nothing but mope. After being so excited before, he’s a wreck now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was sparkbroken.” The Kaonite shook his helm. “Not because of you, maybe, but because he thinks he blew his chance at... Well, whatever he was looking for.” 

Blaster stared at Sunstreaker. “I... I don’t know if he did blow it. I mean, we were both equally stupid that night.” He looked down at his hands. “It’s not like he dragged me to his place against my will.”

Sunstreaker finished his drink. “I know that he won’t message you. He thinks he screwed up. Well, actually he did screw up,” he said thoughtfully, “but you know what I mean. So if you are interested in seeing him again, you’re going to have to message him first. Take that info and do what you want with it.” 

Blaster thought about the broad-shouldered mech he’d spent that evening with. He remembered the way he smiled. He remembered the way he tossed his head back when he laughed. He remembered the intensity in his optics when he listened to Blaster describe one of the fights he’d watched. Maybe...

Blaster nodded. “Ok. Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

Sunstreaker stood up and took a step away from the table. Suddenly he stopped and turned. “One more thing: I was never here, and we never had this conversation.” With that, he turned around again and walked back out of the club.

Jazz appeared next to the table a klik later. “So? What was that all about?”

“He gave me some stuff to think about,” Blaster said, still staring at the seat where Sunstreaker had been sitting.

Jazz frowned but did not press for an answer. “A’ight. I think I isolated the short in the speakers if you want to come take a look.” 

As they were completing the sound check that evening, Blaster pulled out his comm pad. After a brief hesitation, he tapped a message to Sideswipe. _Hey. Just wondering if you’d like to try our date again, only with less engex this time. Let me know if you’re interested._

Blaster did not have a chance to check his comm pad until the night was over. After finishing shutting down the board in the booth, he pulled out his pad and saw a reply to his message.

_I’m interested. When/where?_

***

Blaster looked up when he heard the bell over the café door dingle, and felt some of the tension evaporate from his frame when he saw the large red mech walk in. Blaster had been half convinced that Sideswipe would not actually show up. The other half of him was terrified that Sideswipe would show up, and that he’d just get to repeat his blunders from the other night. 

Sideswipe met his optics and made his way to his booth. He hovered next to the seat across from Blaster. “Hey.”

Gesturing at the seat, Blaster said, “Hey. Have a seat.” Then, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“No problem.”

They stared at each other, only interrupted when the wait drone dropped off a cube of energon for Sideswipe. Finally, Blaster said, “Look, I’m... sorry about the other night. I think we both got off on the wrong pede."

“I’m sorry, too.” Sideswipe looked at Blaster’s hands, then back up at his face. “That’s really not how I wanted to present myself.”

“Me neither.” Blaster laughed. “I felt like an aft: here I am, describing myself as a mech who wants to get to know someone before I frag them, and what do I do? Get blitzed and try to frag them anyway.”

Sideswipe held up his hands. “I am so sorry. I really –“

Blaster waved his hand to quiet the other mech’s protests. “It was as much me as you. I just... I felt dumb. I shouldn’t have had that much to drink and I shouldn’t have agreed to go back to your place. That isn’t who I am.” 

Frowning, Sideswipe said, “That isn’t who I want to be, either.” He cast his gaze to the side. “I wanted to… you know, try… romancing you, I guess? Going on dates, getting to know each other, all that stuff.” He looked back up at Blaster, shame written on his face. “My version of ‘taking it slow’ apparently just meant that I didn’t drag you home the instant I saw you.”

Putting his hand flat on the table, Blaster shook his helm. “I get it. I really wanted the date to go well. And when we ended up getting along so well, I guess I let my guard down a little. You seemed different from the other mechs I’ve gone out with.” Blaster laughed. “I mean, you’re the first mech in a long time who didn’t send me a picture of your spike after trading a handful of messages!” 

Sideswipe’s optics went wide and pale, and he barked out a nervous laugh. “Really? ...I mean, who does that?”

“I know, right? It’s crazy.” Blaster grinned. He looked down at his drink and paused. “So, I thought maybe we can try to start over, and see where it goes... without the overfueling.”

“I’d like that,” Sideswipe said. 

Blaster’s spark fluttered a little at the impish grin the other mech gave him.

Then, they stared at each other.

Blaster took a sip from his drink.

Sideswipe swirled the liquid around in his cube.

“So. Um. You like the fighting leagues. Any other sports you’re into?” Blaster finally asked.

“Sure!” Relief flickered across Sideswipe’s face when Blaster found a topic of conversation. “Um, racing, of course. And I love rocket ball.”

Blaster’s optics brightened. “Rocket ball? Any team in particular?”

“Duh. The Kaonite Crusaders, of course.” Sideswipe grinned. “But even the minor leagues are great to watch. They’re so much more fun in person than on the vids. I wish I could get tickets to one of the major league games, but good luck with that.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Season ticket holders never put their seats on the exchange, and the individual seats are ridiculously expensive.”

Blaster thought for a moment, drumming his digits on the table. “What about the Iaconian Turbofoxes? I mean, the stadium’s just on the other side of the city.”

“You need a ticket to get into the game,” Sideswipe said pointedly. “What am I supposed to do, hang out by the entrance looking for a skimmer? I can’t afford those prices.” 

“Well...” Blaster tilted his helm. “So, you know that I work at the club, but I’ve also got a side job as an alternate announcer for the Turbofox’s comm channel,” he said. “They don’t need me very often, and when they do, it doesn’t pay well – I mostly do it for fun, to be honest – but they have a standing offer of staff tickets to home games. So I could get us a pair of tickets to a home game some time. You know, if you’re interested...”

Sideswipe’s optics grew wider and wider as Blaster spoke. His mouth dropped open in a huge smile, and when Blaster stopped talking he leaned forward. “Are you serious? Are you slagging serious? You could get tickets to a game?”

“Yeah!” Blaster shrugged, smiling. “They’re not great seats, but they’re right behind the northern goal, about halfway up the bowl.” He laughed at Sideswipe’s astonished expression. “Let me know when you’d like to go and I’ll see if the seats are available.”

“You’re... It’s... That’s... Yes, I would love that.” Sideswipe sputtered, then laughed at himself. “Blaster, you’ve made me a happy mech tonight, in more ways than one.”

“Same here,” Blaster said with a grin.

***

“That last goal was insane,” Blaster said as he keyed open the door of his apartment. “The forward shouldn’t even have had a chance to get to the ball after the set. I have no idea how he did that.”

“It’s like they’d subbed in a flyer,” Sideswipe said, nodding in agreement. He frowned. “You don’t think they did, do you? Some kind of hologram or something...?”

Blaster shook his helm. “No way. They scan every mech going onto the field for any shenanigans like that.” He closed the door behind Sideswipe. “Anyway, welcome to my place. Have a seat on the couch. Want something to drink?”

“Naw, I’m fine,” said Sideswipe. He took a step towards the couch and froze when he heard a growl. “Um. Nice kitty.”

Blaster smiled and walked past the other mech. “Sideswipe, this is Steeljaw.” Blaster knelt next to his cassette. “Steeljaw, this is Sideswipe. He’s the mech I was telling you about.”

Steeljaw stood in the middle of the living area, his optics fixed on Sideswipe. ~This is the mech you’ve been fawning over for a whole orbital cycle?~ the cassette asked over their bond link. 

Sideswipe still hadn’t moved. “Should I... Can I... pet him?” He exvented. “Sorry. I’ve never met a cassette before. Not this close, anyway.”

“You should ask him if he wants to be petted, not me,” Blaster said, looking back to the felinoid.

Sideswipe nervously crouched down. “Can I... Do you want me to pet you?” he asked Steeljaw, holding out a hand cautiously.

Steeljaw chuffed and stepped forward to sniff at Sideswipe’s hand. Then he slid his head under the Kaonite’s digits. ~He likes you.~

Blaster glanced at Sideswipe, who was carefully petting the top of Steeljaw’s head. ~And I like him. A lot. But you know that.~ 

After a klik, Steeljaw backed away from Sideswipe and sat down next to Blaster again. He looked up at his carrier, his optics meeting Blaster’s. ~I know.~ He turned and rubbed his head down Blaster’s leg, then stalked out of the room. ~I’ll give you two some privacy.~

Blaster stood and glanced at Sideswipe, who was staring after Steeljaw. “I think he likes you.”

“He does?” Sideswipe looked at Blaster. “Sorry for being a little clueless there.” He settled on the couch, making room for Blaster next to him. “Is he – your only cassette?” Sideswipe chuckled at himself. “Sorry. I don’t know how that works.”

“No, I’ve got four total,” Blaster said. He thought of his other three cassettes, and suddenly realized that it had been some time since he’d seen any of them. He felt along the bonds for his three absent symbiotes, and received faint but immediate pulses in return. “They’ve all gone on to make their own bonds... Make their own way in the galaxy.” He stared off into space for a moment. “I miss them, but I’m glad they’re happy and doing well.”

Sideswipe looked at Blaster for a moment. “They’re really important to you.”

“Of course. They’re my cassettes.” Blaster shook his helm, realizing that his statement didn’t really explain anything. “I know lots of mechs don’t understand. Host mechs... Carriers like me... We’re wired differently. Literally.” He looked down the hallway that Steeljaw had disappeared into. “I think that’s one of the reasons why I can’t just hook up with someone and trade some paint and then move on. I get attached, really easily.” Blaster turned halfway on the couch so he was facing Sideswipe directly. “That’s why I want... I **need** a chance to get to know someone before that.”

“Me too,” Sideswipe blurted. His optics widened. “I mean, I haven’t in the past, and it – went bad. Real bad.” He shrugged. “So I thought I’d try it the other way. And... I think it’s going pretty good so far,” he added with a shy smile.

Blaster smiled back at Sideswipe. He was adorable when he wasn’t trying to be tough or cool. His spark fluttered in his chest and he took a deep vent. “One thing, though... It might be a little too late for me this time.”

“Late?” Sideswipe shifted as he checked his chronometer. “I... could go, I guess?” Disappointment coloured the tone of his voice.

“No! I mean –“ Blaster reached out and put his hand on Sideswipe’s thigh. He laughed at himself. “I mean that it’s too late for me to not get attached. Um.” He glanced down at his hand. “To you, I mean.”

When Blaster looked back up, Sideswipe was staring at him with a strange expression. The other mech opened his mouth, but his vocalizer just clicked. He reset it and tried again. “I’d... I don’t... I didn’t want to rush you. But...” Sideswipe sat motionless, as if afraid he’d knock Blaster’s hand away from his thigh if he moved. “I think I knew where I wanted this to go when I first saw you at the sports bar. And then I fragged it all up.” 

Blaster’s mouth twisted into a half smile. “I think we both had some blame in that one. And it’s dust down the road now.” He slid his hand to pick up Sideswipe’s. He noticed his hand was shaking, and hoped that the other mech wouldn’t notice. “Maybe... If you want, we can try for that frag again, only with less passing out this time.”

A laugh burst from Sideswipe’s vocalizer. “Slag, yes.” He gripped Blaster’s hand, then paused. “But, um... I’m not sure I know how to do this the right way. I’ve done it the wrong way for so long...” He shrugged and looked up at Blaster with a slightly helpless look in his optics. “Tell me if I do something wrong, ok? I really don’t know how to do this the romantic way.”

It was Blaster’s turn to laugh. “I think you’ve done fine with the romantic stuff so far.” He smiled at the look on Sideswipe’s face and added, “But let’s see what else I can show you.” He leaned in and kissed the Kaonite.

They had kissed before. Not just on that first disastrous date, of course, but on almost every date after they decided to try again. They had graduated from the tentative, chaste kisses of a new love, to the full-mouthed, glossa-driven snogs that earned them dirty looks from mechs around them when they did it in public.

This kiss was different again. It had purpose and intention, and an edge of desperation from both of them.

Blaster was pretty sure it was one of the better kisses he’d ever given or received.

It wasn’t until Blaster let his hand slide up Sideswipe’s thigh that he realized the other mech’s interface array was already open. Sideswipe gasped and jerked as Blaster’s digits brushed against his pressurized spike. “Slag, I’m sorry,” Sideswipe whimpered into Blaster’s mouth. “I couldn’t help...”

Grinning, Blaster pulled back and looked at Sideswipe. The Kaonite’s optics focused on his, worry painted across his face. “It’s all right, Siders,” he said. He slid off the couch and knelt, positioning himself between Sideswipe’s legs. “You said before that you’ve never been with a host mech, right?” he asked, gently placing his hands on Sideswipe’s thighs.

Sideswipe’s optics were huge. He shook his helm silently, staring at the Iaconian. 

“All right. Prepare to have your processor blown.” With that warning, Blaster leaned forward and pulled the full length of Sideswipe’s spike into his mouth. Then he began to hum.

Blaster knew that this was a common technique for most mechs: hum around the spike, and the vibrations felt good to the receiving mech. 

But Blaster could take this to the next level. He modulated his hum down the pitch scale until his mouth and throat thrummed with a low-frequency pulse. Once he had the pitch and pulse frequency at a point where Sideswipe’s engine was stalling and roaring back alive every few moments, he dragged his glossa up the length of the spike and sucked gently on the tip. 

Sideswipe’s vocalizer erupted with static. Blaster glanced up and saw the other mech’s helm had rolled back to rest on the wall behind the couch. He paused and waited for Sideswipe to look down at him again. Once Sideswipe’s optics were on him, he lowered his helm again and hummed another pulse along the shaft of his spike. 

“Aww fraggit… Blaster… The slag you – “ Sideswipe groaned incoherently as Blaster switched the pulse from the low rumbling thrum to a delicate trill and back down again. He twirled his glossa around the tip once more before beginning a steady bob of his helm, holding Sideswipe’s thighs apart with firm hands.

Sideswipe bucked his hips upward to meet the downward motion of Blaster’s mouth, and grabbed the top of Blaster’s helm as if to hold it steady. He whined as Blaster changed the pitch of his hum again. “B… If ya don’t… I’m gonna…” 

Sideswipe’s protests rose to a wordless cry as his hips jerked, and Blaster felt the hot splash of musky-tasting transfluid hit the back of his intake. He faded his hum as Sideswipe’s spasms slowed. Gently, Blaster licked every trace of fluid from his spike before releasing it from his mouth.

Blaster swallowed, grimacing slightly at the bitter aftertaste. He leaned his helm against Sideswipe’s thigh and waited for the Kaonite’s optics to come back online. As Sideswipe’s ventilations slowed, Blaster rubbed his hand down the other mech’s lower leg.

When Sideswipe’s optics flickered back to life and focused on his, Blaster smiled. “So, does that get the Sideswipe stamp of approval?”

“By the Primes. You’ve got no idea. That was…” Sideswipe struggled to sit up from the slumped position he had fallen into. “I think you shorted something out. My frame controllers aren’t working right.” 

“Give it a klik or so,” Blaster said with a smirk. Then he pulled back from Sideswipe as the other mech leaned forward and grabbed his helm, intent on a kiss. “Hey, um, maybe I could go rinse my intake. I’ve still got –“

“Don’t care.” Sideswipe pressed his mouth to his, and Blaster opened his lips, letting the other mech’s glossa in to swirl and dance around his. Then Sideswipe pulled back and made a face. “Ugh, yeah, that’s awful.” He held Blaster’s helm between his hands to stare into his optics and added, “Thank you.” Then he leaned forward to kiss him again.

After a klik, Blaster leaned back to break the kiss and put his hands on Sideswipe’s knees again. “So, you’re welcome to spend the night. If you want to. I mean, I’d like you to! If you want.” Blaster laughed and shook his helm. “Listen to me. Can you believe that I get paid to talk?”

Sideswipe smiled. “Sure, I’d love to. And I need to do something for you,” he said, tracing his digits around the edges of Blaster’s cassette deck.

Blaster shuddered under the touch. “Well,” he said in a low voice. “I could show you what I can do with my spike.”

Sideswipe’s optics paled. “Does… does it vibrate, too?”

Laughing, Blaster said, “No! Although maybe I think I could get that as a mod. Pricey, though.” He smiled and slid his hand up Sideswipe’s thigh to brush the entrance of his valve. “But if –“

Sideswipe suddenly jerked his legs closed at Blaster’s touch. “No!…”

“What’s wrong?” Blaster asked, holding his hands up in the air.

“Not that. Please. Not… Not yet.” Sideswipe ducked his helm and looked away. “Someone… One of those bad times I told you about? Yeah.” He lifted his helm slightly and glanced at Blaster. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Hey It’s ok. No apologies needed. It’s fine. We can do something else.” Blaster rose to sit on the couch next to Sideswipe and wrapped his arms around him. Sideswipe rested his helm on Blaster’s shoulder, and the Iaconian gently stroked the back of his helm. “What would you like?” he asked.

Sideswipe exvented and sat up. “Did… do you want to be spiked? I can probably go again.” He shrugged. “If not, maybe I could –“

“That works for me if it works for you,” Blaster said with a smile. He glanced around the living area. “But maybe my berth would be more comfortable?”

Sideswipe nodded, and smiled. “Sure.” He stood and pulled Blaster to his pedes. 

Blaster took a step towards the hallway and said, “It’s just –“ Then he yelled as Sideswipe swooped an arm behind his knees and picked him up off the floor. “Hey! You can’t carry me!” Blaster flung his arms around Sideswipe’s neck, clinging to him as the floor was suddenly too far away. “I’m too heavy!”

“Wanna bet?” Sideswipe said, grinning down at the host mech in his arms. He marched down the hallway into the berthroom that Blaster pointed at. “Look at me, I’m being romantic!” he crowed.

Blaster giggled into Sideswipe’s chest. He was sure that they looked completely ridiculous. He schooled his features as Sideswipe maneuvered them through the door into his room. “Extremely romantic,” he deadpanned, and pressed his face to Sideswipe’s for another kiss.

Sideswipe lowered Blaster’s frame to the berth, and knelt next to him. Blaster leaned back and tried to pull Sideswipe with him, hooking his arm around the other mech’s neck, but he paused when he saw all of the confidence evaporate from Sideswipe again. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

Kneeling awkwardly over one of Blaster’s legs, Sideswipe scanned Blaster’s face. “I usually just start going at it,” he admitted. He glanced down at the other mech’s frame. “Is... is that what you want?”

“Hey.” Blaster drew a digit up Sideswipe’s chin to draw his gaze. “Let me show you something.” Grabbing Sideswipe’s hand, Blaster pulled it between his legs and brushed the other mech’s fingers along his valve. He watched Sideswipe’s optics open wide as he pressed both of their digits into his opening. “Feel that?” Blaster asked, curling Sideswipe’s digits in the lubricant inside. When Sideswipe nodded, Blaster smiled. “That’s what you’ve done to me already.”

“How?” Sideswipe asked wonderingly, stroking his digits around the rim of Blaster’s valve. “I’ve hardly even touched you.”

A pleased sound escaped from Blaster’s vocalizer as Sideswipe brushed his node. “You did this with the noises you made when I was going to town on your spike, and the way you kissed me, and looked at me.” Blaster pulled his hand away from Sideswipe’s and ran it up his arm. His ventilations caught as Sideswipe found another sensitive spot. “The most romantic thing you could do right now is to drive me as hard as you can into this berth.”

Sideswipe froze for a moment. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Blaster laughed. “Now, come on... Show me what I missed on that first date.”

Without another word, Sideswipe pressed his lips to Blaster’s and pushed him down onto the berth. Blaster pulled Sideswipe down with him, crushing their chests together. He felt the other mech’s spike brush against the outer rim of his valve before it slid slowly in. Sideswipe trembled above him as he fought to keep from slamming it in home.

“C’mon Siders, stop teasing me! Frag me like you mean it.” Blaster lifted his legs and wrapped them around Sideswipe’s thighs, pulling the other mech’s hips closer to his, helping drive his spike deeper.

Sideswipe groaned and gave in, thrusting forward. “I thought... I thought you didn’t...” He pulled back, his spike sliding slickly in the copious lubricant, and he looked down at Blaster. 

Laughing, Blaster pulled his legs towards him again, driving Sideswipe’s spike back into his valve and bringing his face close to his. He bit Sideswipe’s lower lip and laughed again at his expression. “I said I wanted to get to know someone before I fragged them. That doesn’t mean I’m a delicate crystal.” He exvented sharply as Sideswipe thrust home again on his own. “You’re not going to break me!” Blaster growled, adding a deep resonant tone to his voice. 

With a mischievous glint in his optics, Sideswipe reared back to grab both of Blaster’s hands. Falling forward, he pinned Blaster’s hands to the berth on either side of his helm and began thrusting his hips against Blaster’s in a fast, rough motion.

 _So good._ Blaster offlined his optics, focusing on the sensation. _So good, so right, so hot._ Blaster yelped as Sideswipe twisted his hips, hitting a part of his valve that hadn’t been engaged before. Then the frantic motion continued. 

“You... you’re lucky you took the edge off me... earlier.” Sideswipe’s voice sounded strained. Blaster onlined his optics and saw Sideswipe staring down at him. “I wouldn’t have lasted a klik if you hadn’t done that,” Sideswipe panted. He rolled his helm back, heat pouring off his high-performance frame. “Frag, you’re so tight.”

Lifting his hips, Blaster twisted so that Sideswipe’s spike slammed into the inner nodes again. _So right, so good, so close..._ He twisted again, and a third time... Then he pressed himself upwards against Sideswipe as his overload swept through his frame like a sonic boom, and he opened his mouth in an infrasonic moan. 

With the thrum of Blaster’s moan reverberating through his frame, Sideswipe’s engine roared as he reached his own overload. The Kaonite wordlessly sobbed as he pumped his hips a few more times, his spike coating the inside of Blaster’s valve with his transfluid. Then he collapsed on top of Blaster, releasing his hands, before sliding off onto his side.

They lay side by side for a long klik, the only sound in the room their ventilations as their cooling systems tried to catch up with the heat they’d produced. Blaster noted that Sideswipe’s frame was far hotter than his. Finally he rolled over to face Sideswipe, who looked at him with a glassy expression.

“There, see?” Blaster asked, wrapping his arms and legs gently around his lover. “You didn’t break me.”

Sideswipe laughed quietly. “That was amazing. You were amazing. This was amazing. Did I say amazing enough times?”

Thinking for a moment, Blaster said, “A few more times would be nice, because I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Pulling Blaster’s frame tighter against his, Sideswipe asked, “Did you still want me to stay?”

“Yes. Of course.” Blaster kissed the bridge of Sideswipe’s nose. “Like I said... I get attached.”

They ended up falling into recharge like that, frames tangled together. 

***

Blaster came out of recharge slowly, but onlined his optics suddenly when he realized he was alone on the berth. He brushed a hand over the berthcover. It was cold. Sideswipe had been gone for a while.

Rolling onto his back, Blaster threw an arm across his optics. He tried to suppress the disappointment that swelled in his spark. Silly. It’s not like they were living together. He’d call him later.

~Your mech is still here.~

~He is?~ Blaster sat up and swung his pedes to the floor, his spark dancing in his chest. _He’s still here. He didn’t leave!_

~He is making a mess in the kitchen, but it smells wonderful.~ Over the bond, Blaster caught an impression of what Steeljaw’s sensitive nose was picking up. It did smell good.

When he walked into the living area, he saw Sideswipe busy with something in the kitchen. “Morning!” Sideswipe said cheerily. “Did you recharge well?”

“Yes. Did you?” Blaster asked, looking around the kitchen in confusion. Bowls and utensils were scattered everywhere, and it looked like Sideswipe had emptied half of his cabinets onto the counter.

“Like a rock.” Sideswipe was carefully cutting energon gel into squares. He stopped for a moment to kiss Blaster soundly on the lips. “I thought I’d make us something special to eat.”

“Where did you get that?” Blaster asked. He knew he didn’t have any of his usual convenience meals left.

Sideswipe quirked an eye ridge. “I made it.”

“You did?” Blaster looked around the kitchen again. “With what?”

“You had all the ingredients: basic energon, gelling agents, stablizers, flavour shavings...” Sideswipe laughed at Blaster’s expression. “Do you seriously not know what’s in your own kitchen?”

Blaster shrugged. “I don’t cook. Ever.” He looked down at Steeljaw, who had stood on his hind legs, his front legs resting on the counter’s edge, so he could see what Sideswipe was doing. Absently rubbing a hand across Steeljaw’s head, Blaster added, “Well, once in a while I’ll try a recipe, then just leave everything in the cupboards. I guess I had more stuff that I realized.” 

Sideswipe finished cutting the squares, and picked one up. “Here, tell me what you think,” he said, offering it to Blaster.

Blaster opened his mouth and let Sideswipe put the square in his mouth. He flicked his glossa against Sideswipe’s digit before he withdrew it. Chewing the square, Blaster’s optics widened. It was nicely bitter with an acidic tang, and had something crunchy that was slightly sweet. “Mmm. This is really good. Where’d you learn how to cook?” 

“I picked it up here and there. I had a long stretch a while ago where I was unemployed, so I did it mostly to not be bored.” Sideswipe looked down at the cassette, who was peering over the counter at the treats. “Did you want some too?”

Blaster didn’t even have to wait for an answer. “He would love some. When I woke up the first thing he said was how good the kitchen smelled.”

“Then allow me.” Sideswipe put several squares on a plate and then hesitated. He looked at the floor, then at Steeljaw, then at Blaster. “Um...?”

Blaster laughed. “Floor or table. Both are fine,” he said, figuring out what Sideswipe was hesitating over.

Sideswipe placed the plate on the table, and Steeljaw leapt onto the chair closest to it. He cautiously sniffed at a square before picking it up with his teeth. Then, he began vacuuming them off the plate with alarming speed. 

~You are keeping him,~ Steeljaw said over the bond. It was a statement, not a question.

“Hey, slow down, Steeljaw! You’ll give yourself a sour tank if you eat too fast,” Blaster admonished his cassette. He grinned as Steeljaw ate the next few squares more slowly, then looked at Sideswipe. “I think it’s fair to say he likes them too. Go ahead and give him a few more?”

“Sure thing!” Sideswipe spun back to the kitchen to retrieve the platter.

Blaster sat on the couch and grabbed his comm pad off the end table. He saw a message from Jazz and opened it. _Hey, you up yet? I wanna tell ya about this great band me and Prowl saw last night. Did ya wanna do brunch today? Let me know._

After watching Sideswipe give Steeljaw a few more squares, Blaster tapped out a response. _Sideswipe’s already made brunch for us. Some other time?_

A moment later his pad chirped. _Oh reeeeeeeeaaally! He made brunch for you? I take it things went well last night? How are you doing? Everything ok?_

_Yeah. Everything is great. Really great._

_Yer a good mech, Blaster. I’m really happy for ya. I’ll leave ya to it. Lemmie know when you’re free._

_Sure thing Jazz. Thanks._

“And these are for you,” Sideswipe said, handing Blaster a plate. 

Blaster set aside his comm pad and took the plate, scooting aside on the couch to make room for Sideswipe. He popped a square into his mouth, and his optics dimmed momentarily as he savoured the flavour. “Thanks for... brunch. And for last night. And for staying. And for waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“For me. To be ready.” Blaster set his plate on the end table and wrapped his arms around Sideswipe’s neck. “I hope it was worth it,” he said, a frown briefly crossing his lips.

“It was. You are. And... thanks for giving me another chance,” Sideswipe said.

“I got some advice telling me that I should,” Blaster said. “I’m glad I listened to it.”

Sideswipe looked like he was about to ask a question, but Blaster silenced him with a kiss that was more glossa than lip. By the time they were done, Sideswipe had completely forgotten he had a question in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sticky story, another story way outta my comfort zone. Hopefully it still works despite my desperate awkwardness writing this? :)
> 
> Headcanons for this story:
> 
> 1\. Rocket ball = Rocket League. Because of course Transformers would play that. There are different leagues for grounders and flyers.
> 
> 2\. Blaster gives the best hummers. Because of course he can.
> 
> I also posted a little blurb about my [host/cassette head canon and how that works](https://pipermca.dreamwidth.org/1403.html).


End file.
